


Scandalous Desires

by lovelykotori, SaiyanPrince541



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: F/M, Lemon, Masturbation, Scandal, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 08:06:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9712679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelykotori/pseuds/lovelykotori, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaiyanPrince541/pseuds/SaiyanPrince541
Summary: After a brief argument with Vegeta, involving some harmless flirting, Bulma begins to doubt her affections for Yamcha and after a failed date with her boyfriend, the heiress is lost in scandalous thoughts of her Saiyan houseguest. Meanwhile, the Prince is also fighting to control his budding attraction, towards the glamorous hostess.Set during the infamous 3-year gap. Art/idea by lovelykotori, story by SaiyanPrince541. :D





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PrincessChiChi99](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessChiChi99/gifts).



_A/N: Prompt 2 of_[@tpthvegebulsmutfest](https://tmblr.co/mPmlaG4nf61g-1b4AQqsDxw): Masturbation. Also a gift for my friend [PrincessChiChi99](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/8671298/PrincessChiChi99) on fanfiction, based on the [awesome artwork](https://lovelykotori-fa.tumblr.com/post/157193396686/desire-a-fanart-for-the) and idea of the super-talented [lovelykotori](http://lovelykotori.deviantart.com).  
  


_Keep in mind that this is the first time I’ve written something, centred around a ‘masturbation’ theme, so please, do go easy on me haha._  
  
The following takes place during the infamous 3-year gap.

Scandalous desires:

“Woman, I command you to upgrade the gravity chamber, this instant!” A frustrated Vegeta growled, as he barged into Bulma’s room, his strapping, shirtless form littered with nasty burns and scratches.

“Shut up, jerk-face!” Bulma heatedly fired back, shoehorning her heel into the back end of that confining, silver-hued, left stiletto pump. “I’m not some servant, at your beck-and-call! I have a fucking life, just in case you didn’t know! I get busy from time-to-time and now, just happens to be one of those times, so beat it, you creep!”

The heiress was primping herself, for a romantic night-out, with Yamcha, her petite figure adorned with a stunning, knee-level cocktail dress that hugged her upper body, the lower part of the lilac outfit, pleated nicely, making her appear as delicate as a flower and at the same time, as voluptuous as a Greek goddess.

“I could care less about your greasy milksop of a man-friend!” The Saiyan spat, earning him a dirty look from Bulma. He then smirked. “Besides, even if you made him wait three whole days, I bet he’d still be willing to get on all-fours, for a chance to lick your boots.”

“Screw you, asshole!” The heiress clenched her fists and jaw. “He’s a decent guy, who knows how to treat a lady, unlike someone I know!”

“First of all, you’re nothing close to a lady.” He retorted. “You’re a spoiled, vulgar, loudmouthed banshee. And second, I don’t understand how you can admire someone who lets you walk all over him.”

“Oh?” She placed her hands on her hips, giving her surly houseguest, a smug look. “And I suppose you’re the right kind of boyfriend material, is that what you’re telling me?”

The Prince almost sputtered, at the unforeseen question, hurled his way.

“Oh please.” He shook his head. “That sort of rubbish is far beneath me. I live only for battle.”

Bulma noted a faint, pinkish tint, highlighting his cheeks and against her better judgment, she decided to press further.

“So- I guess that makes you asexual, right?”

“Wh-What?!” The Prince gaped at her, in absolute horror. “What kind of question is that?! What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“I’m just trying to understand.” She grinned at his appalled expression. “I mean, Goku’s always acted indifferent around women, but he obviously knows how to work his tools, otherwise Gohan wouldn’t be here. What about you? Got something down there, you can use?”

“You’re disgusting!” Vegeta choked, blushing profusely and unable to believe just how badly this conversation had veered.

“God, I honestly never pegged you for a prude.” Bulma laughed, before biting her lip as she decided to take things up a notch. “Well, if you really aren’t interested, then I suppose this won’t cause a little spring, down below.” She clutched the hem of her dress and sultrily began lifting it up at slow pace, revealing those tantalizing, porcelain thighs of hers. This time the flame-haired Saiyan was unable to repress the gasp that escaped, his wide-eyes glued to those slender, mouth-watering boughs. “Hm, seems you are interested hahaha.” The heiress abruptly stopped lifting, just when she was about to reveal her underwear, before re-laying her skirt out, over her legs. “Well, too bad. That’s all you’ll ever get to see, I’m afraid. I’ll leave the rest, to your imagination.” She impishly winked and moved past him, chortling all the while, as he stood transfixed and open-mouthed, his heart pounding against his chest and his member, slightly hard.

However, it didn’t take long before he regathered his bearings and rounded on the heiress, just as she was strutting along the corridor. Pinning her against the wall, he practically paralyzed her, with a chilling, death glare.

“Let me make this perfectly clear, little female.” He hissed, calloused hands pressing against her bare shoulders. This time it was Bulma who gasped, at the sudden predicament. “I have no interest in either you or any other pathetic human.” He shifted his face closer to hers, his hot breath fanning against her eardrum, whereby a surge of arousal shot down her spine, heart-rate accelerating. “You may have caught me off-guard with that lewd display, but I assure you, if it ever happens again, you’ll be dead before you hit the ground. No one makes a mockery of the Prince of all Saiyans. No one.”

He pulled back and looked her squarely in the eyes and while she should’ve been terrified at the threat, the sight of his vivid, black irises, had her falling neck deep, into a magnificent ravine of obscurity. She’d never seen them up close. Not even Goku’s eyes were quite as dark or intricate, as Vegeta’s. They were utterly mesmerizing, blazing with a plethora of unearthly fire and as dense as a neutron star.

“What?” The Prince asked, narrowing his eyes at his quietened hostess.

“Your eyes.” Bulma breathed softly. “They’re so- beautiful.”

Vegeta’s breath hitched and he instantly backed away at the compliment, once again gawking at the heiress. No one had ever referred to him in such a manner, before. Why was it making him feel so light-headed? Why was she roving over his figure, with those hungry, half-lidded eyes? Why was his heart hammering against his rib-cage, like a Mac-10? What was this foreign feeling, blossoming within the burrows of his chest? He felt funny and he didn’t like it.

“Uh- what’s going on?” A third party interrupted the duo. Both Bulma and Vegeta turned, to see a perplexed Yamcha, standing there, scratching his head.

“Uh- Yamcha, hi!” Bulma laughed uneasily. “How are you?”

“Vegeta, what’re you doing here?” The scar-faced human asked, ignoring his girlfriend. “Shouldn’t you be training?”

“That’s none of your concern, weakling!” The Prince snapped, before turning his attention back to Bulma. “As soon as you get back from this frivolous outing, I want that gravity room upgraded, understood?!” He promptly flounced away, while Bulma stood there, staring at his ebbing figure, drinking in the receding sight of his sturdy ass. Oh God, it looked so good, in that form-fitting spandex!

“You shouldn’t let him talk to you like that.” An oblivious Yamcha frowned. “He’s a guest here. He should know his place.”

“Yeah, but he’s so freaking-” Bulma instantly clamped her mouth shut. She was about to finish the sentence, with the word “hot”. Oh God, why was she developing the hots for Vegeta, now of all times, just as she was about to eat out, with her boyfriend? She needed to shove those scandalous thoughts aside!

“So freaking- what?” Yamcha pressed.

“Nothing, nothing.” The heiress furtively glanced between her toes. “You’re right, Yamcha. He’s an idiot and I shouldn’t let him talk to me that way hehe.”

XXXX

Throughout the date, Bulma’s mind was preoccupied with one person and one person only: Vegeta, her spoiled, entitled and laconic houseguest, who just happened to be super sexy, up close, a convoluted puzzle she wanted to decipher. Why hadn’t she noticed it before? God, the way he pinned her up against that wall, made her all hot and bothered. No one had ever made her entire body freeze, like that. No one, but him. He could’ve touched her anywhere he wanted and she didn’t know if she could muster up the willpower to stop him. Would she even want him to stop? Oh, what she thinking?! This was all wrong! She was supposed to be thinking about Yamcha!

Speaking of Yamcha, Vegeta’s assertion about her scar-faced boyfriend, rung across her mind, like a bell. Was he really just a 'yes-man’, whom she could string along, like her little puppy? As much as she wanted to deny it, the surly Saiyan’s words resonated, with some degree of truth. She’d been horrible to Yamcha, ever since they started dating, but he took it all in stride. No matter how ignominiously she humiliated him, he would eventually grovel before her, asking for forgiveness and heartily apologizing, even though it was her fault, eighty percent of the time, not that she’d ever admit it. Vegeta was a complete contrast. He never took her shit and always said it like it was, brutally honest. All of her male friends would shrivel, in the face of her infamous verbal tirades, but Vegeta was a whole other story. He’d stand toe-to-toe with her, not mincing a single word, as he fired back, with fiery fervor that was equal to, if not greater than her own. And for some reason, she loved the contrast.

'Oh come on Bulma, quit it!’ She mentally chided. 'He’s a jerk, who wouldn’t spare you a second thought.’

But if that were so, why did he seem so interested, at the sight of her legs? God knew, she had the best legs in the entire Universe, but even then, this was Vegeta. Dammit, why couldn’t she stop thinking about him? Why did she feel all tingly, at the mere prospect of Vegeta, finding her attractive? It was all so utterly sinful and yet that made it all the more alluring.

A short while later…

“So Bulma, what say we get outta here and have some fun?” Yamcha wiggled his brows suggestively, a few moments after the pair finished their ice-cream, custard-cake, dessert.

“Well, I definitely need to get outta here, but I’ll take a rain check on the fun part.” Bulma rolled her eyes, much to her boyfriend’s disappointment. “Sorry Yamcha, I’m just not in the mood, right now. I can’t.”

She knew that if she gave in to Yamcha and the two of them went at it, her thoughts would be consumed with Vegeta, even as she was being pounded by another man and for her, that was too far gone. Iniquitous as she was, even she had certain standards. And so she returned home by herself and after a long bubble bath, tossed away her bath robe and lay supine on her queen-sized bed, butt naked, not even bothering to change into her nightshirt or underwear. Bulma’s thoughts were still pinned to the image of Vegeta, in those hot spandex shorts and joggers and the feel of his rough hands, on her shoulders. God, she wondered what it would be like to grind her body to his, feeling every inch of those hard, steel-like muscles press up, against her hourglass figure.

'Oh God, am I touching myself?!’ She thought in complete horror, gazing down to see her conjoined right digits, gently stroking her vulva. Now conscious of her contemptible hand’s whereabouts, she lifted it up and away. Oh goodness. She couldn’t believe she’d done that, so inadvertently. Bulma shut her eyes and tried to centre her breathing, in a vain attempt to stabilize her muddled mind. How could she be so dirty, getting off on Vegeta, like that? And why was she suddenly imagining what it would feel like to have his hand, where hers had been, not half-a-minute ago? What about his lips and ton-

“Oh my God.” She gasped at her own shameless depravity. How could she ever imagine something so utterly perverse? Damn her libidinous desires! This was all completely wrong, on every level and yet, the wrongness of it all, only spiralled her desires to no end. Her moist wetness ached with agonizing need, as she whimpered and rubbed her thighs together, taking rasped breaths. Bulma poured every bit of determination she had, into stilling the movement of her legs, but they were well beyond her control. She just wanted to touch herself again, all the while lost in ignoble thoughts of her unruly guest.

'Think about Yamcha, dammit, think about Yamcha.’ It wouldn’t work, no matter how much she willed it. Comparing her boyfriend to Vegeta, was like comparing a mouse to a dragon. Why did she have to be so stupid?! If she hadn’t provoked Vegeta in the first place, she wouldn’t have fallen into those black irises of his or had a chance to peer at his seraphic figure, from up close. His eyes alone were a cosmic abyss of perfection and she longed to fall right into their sinful depths, in a damning, diabolical dance with the devil. And those abs and pecs, gods, they were defined so well, chiseled and knit together, perfectly. She wanted to rove her hands all over them and below. Without even looking, she could tell that he had to have been gifted in the southern regions. He just seemed the type.

Oh no, no, no! She was touching herself again, only this time, she didn’t have the strength to stop, no matter how hard she tried. And so, as fate would have it, she eventually released a huge breath and cast away all her misgivings, surrendering her staunch resolve, as she pumped her fingers inside herself, while her thumb deftly rubbed her clit, her hazy mind clouded with an outlandish scenario of Vegeta boring his dark eyes into hers, as he pulled her against him and gruffly whispered in her ear. “Bulma, you belong to me.” What?! Where the fuck did that come from?! She didn’t know, but it made her arousal skyrocket. Bulma’s free hand moved to her chest and she tweaked her perky left nipple, with her thumb and index finger, imagining Vegeta’s callous digits, in place of her own. She dug harder into the searing, wet chambers of her womanhood, panting hard, as she envisioned both her and Vegeta, naked and sandwiched together. He continued to tease her, by murmuring a sultry string of sweet nothings into her ear canal, while his hand travelled down to her hot spot and began doing all sorts of naughty, pleasurable things to her, down below. In a sudden, unexpected move, both hands were now sliding and caressing, her flowery centre. It didn’t take long at all, before she screamed and a flood of her rich, fragrant orgasm burst from between her legs and she was left on her bed, breathing harder than ever, as a rush of shame poured over her. She couldn’t believe she’d done that. What would Yamcha think? What would Vegeta think, for that matter? How would she behave in his presence, having done what she did? Little did she know that the Prince was in the very same boat, as her.

XXXX

Vegeta was performing his usual training drills, within the brutal confines of the gravitron, though his mind was elsewhere, specifically on the blue-haired banshee woman and her accursed legs. Dammit, why did they have to look so enticingly hot? He couldn’t even train properly and so, after some heated deliberation, he decided to take the night off.

Vegeta indulged himself in a quick shower, before hopping into bed, only sleep was difficult, when his mind was being bombarded with with licentious images of that sordid seductress. Goddamn her vulgar, unscrupulous antics! No one ever had the chutzpah to do that to him, let alone a weak, fragile little female, whom he could snap like a twig.

'Fuck, I hate her!’ It’d been many years, since he’d last experienced sexual release. Not that he cared. Blue balls had never been an issue for him, but now, with thoughts of Bulma’s anatomy preoccupying his mind, it was suddenly becoming very real. Against his very own will, his mind began to envision the parts she hadn’t revealed. Dammit, he didn’t even know the color of her panties and yet, he was already picturing the red, rosy treasure that lay beneath and what it would be like to have her legs around his hips, as he screwed her, all the way to high heaven. 'Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!’

He was growing harder and harder, with those debauched thoughts, his large, thick phallus stretching tight against those form-fitting lycra shorts, making it look as though a tent was pitched, beneath his lower abdomen. He quickly used his Ki to lock the door, before taking steady breaths, in a bid to calm himself. He didn’t need to think about this! Perhaps some meditation would help and so he shut his eyes, in a bid to rid himself of any extraneous thoughts or desires. For a short while, it appeared to work, until once again he was bombarded with images of Bulma, slowly lifting up her dress, only this time, she didn’t stop and beneath it all, was the perfect, ripe centre, wet and blossoming. Erect once again, the mentally and sexually frustrated Prince clenched his fists, ready to blow up the entire joint. However, what little reason he had, interceded. If he destroyed Capsule Corporation and in doing so, killed the woman and her family, they could no longer provide him with the training equipment he needed, to defeat both Kakarot and the Androids. There was only one solution left and so, he shamefacedly decided to blow his load. Thus he de-garbed, tossing his training shorts, into the laundry hamper, before taking a deep breath and wrapping his palm and fingers, around his stiff rod, the lurid visions of Bulma returning, with far greater intensity than before. He shut his eyes and the mental scenario began rolling, almost instantaneously.

Completely nude, Bulma walked up to him and girding an arm around his neck, she lowered her free hand, taking hold of his shaft and gratifying it with slow, steady strokes. “Oh Vegeta, you’re so big, my God.” He imagined her giggle and he instantly went harder. Letting out a virile groan, he envisioned her stroking just a little faster, all the while kissing him all over, with those soft, luscious, cherry lips of hers. Oh God, it felt so good! Her other hand roved along his muscled body, exploring every inch of his torso and creating goose pimples, wherever they travelled. She got on her knees and this time, she took him into her mouth, sucking and licking him, with intense ardor, repeatedly swirling the tip of her blade around his corona, before stroking his base. That was what did him in, imagining how that loquacious tongue of hers would feel, as it pleasured the most erogenous zones of his hardened cock! The Prince didn’t last much longer and spurted his seed, all over the place. For minutes, he sat still, beset with utter defeat and humiliation, like never before. He couldn’t believe what he’d done. He never had to resort to such sordid measures before. The Saiyan Prince, fantasizing over a mere Earthling?! It was a complete disgrace to his royal heritage. He needed to steer clear of her, lest she snare him into another perverse trap. He couldn’t allow himself to fall so low, ever again!

_A/N: Well, I have to say, that really was a tough one! I didn’t imagine writing something of this length, but given the size of Vegeta’s length, I suppose it’s only fitting xD._


End file.
